


He washed up on her shore

by Ethnee



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Alternating Perspectives, And I need to remedy it, Bisexual Aloth, Canon Compliant, Deadfire, F/M, Nostalgia, OC backstory, Pining, Self-Doubt, There's a distinct lack of Aumaua watchers around, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:06:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25761070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethnee/pseuds/Ethnee
Summary: Kai, an Aumaua Rogue, grapples with her place in the world, where she thinks she belongs, and what she thinks she wants. Kana reminds her of home - of rolling seas and sandy shores and when life was easier. He's bigger and smarter and happier than she is, and she can't decide if she craves his attention or doesn't understand him at all. Maybe both. But Aloth is something else. He's clever, and kind, and he tries so hard to hide his soul's imperfections, he fails to see its beauty.It's funny. Kana reminds her of home, but Aloth feels like it. She wonders if her wizard would stay if she asked.
Relationships: Aloth Corfiser/Original Female Character(s), Aloth Corfiser/The Watcher
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. Liquor-Loosened Tongues

Dusk at the Wailing Banshee was unpleasantly warm and stuffy, relieved only by brief whiffs of cool, sundown air when the door opened and new patrons shuffled in. Strangely enough, the place smelled worse than the Salty Mast -- not that Aloth wished to return there. Perhaps because of the nature of the Salty Mast’s clientele, the brothel always reeked of perfumes and incense, masking the smell of unwashed bodies and stale liquor. The Wailing Banshee had no such precautions, and instead it smelled of body odor and sawdust. The former was self-explanatory, while the latter was thanks to the actual sawdust still piled up from the lighthouse’s renovations.

Aloth was torn, then, between wrapping up in his robes and trying to hide from sight, and rolling up his sleeves and fanning his face. Instead, he just sat there, staring into the tarnished bronze goblet that held his wine as sweat beaded on his temple.

Eder leaned against the edge of the bar counter, making too-pleasant conversation with some local woman. A boy, some eight or ten years old, kept returning to her side, then running off again. She ran her fingers through the boy’s hair, fingers that bore no wedding ring. She was not entirely unattractive, Aloth thought, with auburn hair just graying around the edges and labor-aged hands, her bodice high enough to be respectable but not sexless. As Aloth watched, Eder leaned a little closer, hand sliding across the counter to rest over her own.

Aloth averted his eyes, wishing to see no more. Sagani was entertaining a small crowd with her “extraordinary tame fox,” making Itumaak twirl in circles and jump for strips of meat. The onlookers were armed with jerky crumbs, and Itumaak gleefully did whatever it was asked, tongue lolling from its jaws as it was showered in treats. 

Durance had long since gone to bed, his pride wounded and his ego refusing to admit it, after several local lasses had -- loudly -- rejected his advances. _Aye, likely up there “polishin’ his staff,” between you an’ me._

“Oh, how crude,” Aloth said aloud. He froze, looking around, but no one paid him any mind. He cleared his throat and composed himself, setting his jaw as he kept his words firmly in his head this time. _Please never say anything like that again. If you do only one thing I ask of you, let it be that._

_What? Ye don’t like the idea of an old man up thaer, bringin’ his wood to a shine? Ach, ye’d do better t’ ‘ave more appreciation for pleasures of th’ flesh, lad. All those nights at th’ Mast, and ye never did listen ta my suggestions-_

Aloth knelt forward, elbows on the table and his face in his hands, subject to Iselmyr’s somewhat horrifying monologue, rife with more “suggestions” as to how he could spend his leisure time. Her words swam around his head, so loud and inescapable, he missed the footsteps behind him until they ended with a tap on his shoulder. He jerked up, blinking and getting his bearings. Looking down at him, Kai gave a wry smile. “Why so glum, wizard?”

“Iselmyr,” Aloth rumbled darkly. As Kai slid into the chair beside him at his corner table, Aloth reached for his goblet and knocked back a gulp of wine, hoping the liquor would help.

“Don’t tell me she’s ruining this nice evening for you.” Kai sat, as always, with her back to the wall, one eye kept on at the mingling crowd. Still, she wore a smile on her lips, and as she sat she rested a heavy tankard of watery ale on the table.

“I feel I am getting a headache,” Aloth sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing the spot between his eyes. On cue, Iselmyr’s voice rose indignantly, making him wince.

“Tell her to be quiet,” Kai suggested, taking a sip of her drink.

Aloth gave her a scathing look. “You think I haven’t tried that?”

Kai shrugged. “Maybe you’re just not scary enough.”

Though Iselmyr had been content to stay inside his head thus far, Aloth felt her rise up within him, too fast and unexpected to stop. “Ha!” Aloth felt his hand slap against the table’s surface, his laugh loud and piercing across the ambient noise of the inn. “Him, scary. Oh, that’d be a good one. Th’ boy’s got all the intimidatin’ qualities of a rat playing _dead_.” Then, with some distaste, Iselmyr looked through his eyes at the wine in his cup, lip curling back in distaste. “What sweet shite. Can’t even drink anythin’ proper fer me to taste.”

Kai’s head tilted at a curious angle. She showed no signs of discomfort or confusion, just innocent interest. “Why don’t you leave Aloth alone, Iselmyr? Let him have a quiet evening.” 

Aloth wrestled for control, but felt Iselmyr push him away, like a bigger sibling keeping him at arm’s length with a hand on his head. “Ye don’t like me company, lass? I can promise ye, I’m more entertainin’.” Their lips spread in a wide grin, eyebrows waggling obnoxiously.

Kai’s lips twitched in a ghost of a smile, but she shook her head. “I’d rather have my wizard back, please.”

“Ach, fine.” The power suddenly relinquished, like a taut rubber band allowed to fly, and Aloth regained control with a jolt. Content with her meddling, he felt Iselmyr retreat to a corner of his mind, far too self-satisfied.

“And don’t bully him while you’re in there,” Kai added, still staring at him. 

Aloth squirmed under her intensity, now that he had replaced Iselmyr as her target. He cleared his throat and reached for his cup to hide behind. “Order has been restored, thank you.”

Immediately, her seriousness lifted, eyes twinkling instead. She looked almost pleased with herself. “I guess she just needed to listen to a voice of reason.”

Aloth snorted, inhaling some of his drink. As he coughed and dabbed at his mouth, he chuckled and shook his head. “If Iselmyr listened to reason,” he said, “she wouldn’t be Iselmyr.” 

“True.” They fell into an amicable silence, and Aloth enjoyed the momentary mental peace. Despite his outburst, no one gave them a second look. The crowd swelled back and forth, people gathered around their tables. Eder and the woman now sat next to each other, a little closer than propriety would expect, and Sagani was drinking with her group of admirers, Itumaak dozing at her feet. 

Aloth found his gaze wandering to Kai’s profile. He watched her watch the crowd, tawny eyes wide and attentive, noting everything in every corner. Her nose cast a crooked shadow across her cheek, a bump on the bridge of her nose where a few too many breaks had left their mark. In the light, he saw the creases of a dozen little nicks and scratches, scars that had healed over but left imprints visible in her silhouette, giving her clear blue skin an imperfect texture.

Then her calm scanning of the room stopped, and she focused on something in particular. Aloth followed her line of sight to a tall, broad man in the corner, and the few people sitting at his table.

Kana gestured excitedly at his companions, large face set in a beaming smile, his trademark cap askew on his head. Given the robes on the men around him, it appeared Kana had entered conversation with some local scholars or intellectuals, though what they’d be doing in Ondra’s Gift, Aloth didn’t know. They looked to be in some kind of debate, emoting passionately, the volume of their voices carrying across the room but their words inaudible. Aloth looked back at Kai. She remained transfixed on their table, and Kana especially.

Something in him shifted, something Aloth couldn’t quite name. The concept eluded him like a kitten chasing its tail, forever out of reach. “Perhaps you should go talk to him,” he said, and went for another drink of wine, frowning as an empty cup met his lips.

Kai started, blinking and looking around. Somewhat sheepish, she realized she’d been leaning forward, and sat back in her chair, shrouding herself in her usual nonchalance. “Talk to who?”

“Kana.”

Kai’s eyebrows rose as she avoided eye contact, finishing off her cup of ale in a long swig. “Never heard of him,” she said, with a thump of her tankard against the tabletop.

“I'm afraid I don't believe you.” Someone swept around him, and his eyes met a pair of protruding bosoms as a barmaid leaned over to gather their cups. The woman gave him a warm smile, and Aloth shrank back, thankful when she left. _Shy little mouse_ , Iselmyr teased, her voice a quiet echo of before.

Kai smiled politely at the barmaid before making an unhappy face. “He looks busy.”

“When has Kana ever rejected more company?” 

Kai drummed her fingers on the table in a slow, pensive rhythm. “I can’t imagine I’d have much to add.” 

At this, Aloth frowned, brow furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you know, he’s-” Kai flung a hand in Kana’s direction, as though her gestures would convey what her words could not. “-smart,” she finished. 

“Smart,” Aloth repeated, searching her face for understanding.

“He’s got book-learning. Knows history. Engwithans and Glanfathans and what maps go where and what scrolls say what and--” She flung her hand again, more despondently. “I don’t.”

“Ah.” An awkward moment passed, Kai still staring glumly at Kana’s table and Aloth searching for the right thing to say. “I don’t see why your lack of equivalent education has ever bothered Kana before,” he said, carefully.

This time, Kai didn’t even respond when the barmaid returned with their refilled cups. She tugged on her hair, only realizing the unconscious gesture when a lock of it pulled free from her bun and she scowled. “It’s just different,” she said, in lieu of an explanation. “I don’t- I wish-” She fumbled with her words a few moments more, until she raised her head and locked eyes with him. Her shoulders fell a hopeless inch or two. “Do you think he’d like me?”

Aloth blinked. “How could he not?”

Whatever answer she had wanted or expected, it wasn’t that. She sat upright, glancing once more at Kana’s table before giving Aloth a small smile, one corner of her mouth pulled higher than the other. “Well, when you say it like that.”

Aloth swallowed, and reached for his cup, breaking eye contact to glance at Kana’s table. Just then, one of Kana’s companions stood and said farewell, leaving an empty seat behind. “Opportunity knocks, it seems,” he said, and drank.

Kai looked between him, the chair, and back again, lower lip caught between her teeth as she thought. At last, she stood, shoulders pulled back and her chest pushed out with all the confidence she could muster. She clapped one hand to Aloth’s shoulder, knocking him forward, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Wish me luck, wizard.” 

Aloth watched her stride off, navigating the crowd without brushing against anyone, before sitting down at the empty chair. Kana, locked in conversation, paused to welcome her with a smile. His lips moved with greetings and questions Aloth couldn’t hear, but he looked happy with her company, if no happier than usual.

Aloth, suddenly keenly aware of the empty chair beside him, pursed his lips, and finished his wine alone.

 _Not alone, lad,_ Iselmyr chided. Her voice seemed softer than usual. _Ye’ve always got me._

“How comforting,” Aloth murmured into his cup. Iselmyr didn’t seem to notice the sarcasm, however, and wound herself around his core like a cloak, warming what had just gone cold.


	2. First Meeting

In other circumstances, he might have been able to talk his way out of it.

As it were, navigating the multiple and overlapping threats of the locals while suppressing the angry brogue that clawed at his throat and longed to tear through his teeth, took up much of his concentration.

“I meant no offense,” he said. Sweat beaded on his back and dripped down his spine, and he cursed himself for listening to the tailor who sold him a stuffy winter tunic. “Perhaps we could-”

“Perhaps you could chew the dirt beneath my boot, Aedyran,” one sneered. The farmer drew closer, and even from a few feet away Aloth could smell the thick scent of stale ale and pipe smoke. “Say it again, I dare you. I’m itching for an excuse.”

A stranger approached from behind the group, fragmenting his attention one division too many. A heat flushed through him -- drunken on pride, on hubris -- and made him ball his fists and tilt his head back in mocking. “Fye, you’re itching for the kindling touch of your sister, ye coxfither.” 

They drew back in shock, just for a second. Enough time for Aloth to shove that voice deep down somewhere _else_ , and then as the group snarled and drew their weapons, to wonder if he should have kept it around. She was better in a fight than he was, even if it was a fight she started.

“What’s going on here?”

The stranger, the one that broke his concentration, had come up alongside them, not quite flanking the trio of drunks. A source of pity, or order, perhaps. “This is all a misunderstanding, friend. I didn’t say--” Aloth’s gaze flicked to the three individuals before him. “--whatever they think I said.”

Then, to his horror, his jaw set and one of his eyebrows arched, surly and defiant. “We’ve nye quarrel.”

The stranger -- tall, blue, Aumaua -- arched a brow in return, but before they could respond, the offending, offended party stepped forward. “This Aedyran mocks us while he shelters in our village. Just goes to show you what those fancy manners are worth.” The woman speaking turned and spat in the mud, just barely missing Aloth’s shoes. “We don’t take to that kind of treatment. Not from foreigners, and especially not from Aedryans.”

“I see.” The stranger, also a woman, looked between Aloth and the trio. “I can understand why you’d want to, but I can’t recommend attacking a wizard.”

The scene paused. “What?” said the second of the trio, a human man frozen mid-fondling of his mace.

The stranger gave Aloth an appraising, gesturing nod. “He travels alone and carries no weapon. I’d wager there’s either a book or a wand beneath those robes, or both, and I wouldn’t want to find out. If I were you,” she finished.

An uneasy silence fell. Aloth watched the three regauge the situation, weighing their inebriation and indignation against this new, unexpected variable. His breath hitched, and didn’t release until they lowered their weapons. “You get off this time, outsider,” the elf woman said, with a curl of her lip. “Pull something like that again, and you’ll regret it. Wizard or not.”

Aloth gave a shaky exhale and what he hoped was a less-shaky smile. “Rest assured, madam, I shall do nothing of the sort.”

His parting remarks were met with a side-eyed glare, but the trio turned away and staggered back towards the pub, leaving him alone with the stranger. Now, for the first time, he could truly take her in.

Beside a human, she would have been tall, but beside his elven stature, she looked even taller. Six foot something with ocean blue skin and tawny brown eyes, golden-brown stripes framed her face like a fish’s marks. A simple cloth hood hung from her shoulders, exposing short hair cut almost shaved around the sides, with just enough left over to tie back in what looked more like a knot than a bun. Being an Aumaua, she was well-built, but her muscle was lean more than dense. Aside from her face, she had little exposed flesh, but the rain made some of her clothes stick to her skin, exposing muscle definition rather than muscle mass.

A fighter of some sort, then. Of what type he couldn’t tell; she had a bow across her back and several sheathes along her hips, and he was no master of weaponry to begin with. Either way, if she wanted to intervene, she could have, and instead she stood before him with nothing more than a curious expression.

His forced smile melted into a more wry one. “That wasn’t quite how I hoped to get to know the neighbors. Thank you for your timely assistance with that … “ How to put it? “ … awkward situation.” 

“You’re welcome.” A slight smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She turned away, checking to make sure the drunks had gone back into the pub, and rested a hand on the hilt of one of her weapons. Aloth’s lips parted and he sought to take further advantage of the opportunity.

“I suppose introductions are in order,” he said, drawing her attention back to him. He offered a friendly smile, toeing the line between eager and disinterested. Best not to look too much of either. “Aloth Corfiser, at your service.” 

“Kai.” Her eyes ran over him once more, starting at his toes and ending at the top of his head in one quick flick. “I don’t suppose you have anything more to say for yourself, after an encounter like that.” 

Suddenly the mud-splattered side of the nearest house seemed more interesting than meeting the woman’s gaze. “A matter of misconstruing and misunderstanding, as I said.” His mouth pulled in a brief grimace. “It doesn’t help that people here remember their war with Aedyr like it was yesterday.” 

“You did insinuate something about that man fucking his sister.”

“Ah. That.” He cleared his throat. “They misheard me. As I tried to tell them. After a few pints, the accent tends to slur a bit, and--”

“No, I was there for that part. I heard it as well.” That strange, slight smile had still not left her face, leaving Aloth with the distinct sense that she was laughing at him, even if she didn’t do so outright.

_Th’ lass knows a liar when she sees one. Bes’ be grateful she’s in a mood to put up wit yer nonsense. Could probably snap ye in two if she felt like it._

Aloth fought with the voice for a moment, long enough to leave an unnatural pause between him and the stranger -- Kai -- that he had to clear his throat again to fix. “I will speak more clearly next time. Apologies.” 

She hummed, and he felt keenly aware that she was choosing to let it go. “What brings you to Gilded Vale, then?”

That he had a clearer answer for. Noble parentage, a childhood spent studying magic, now an adult desire for adventure. Gilded Vale promised that, then--

He swept an arm to the corpse-laden tree looming over them, casting a twisted shadow that was cool and foul. “Then I was told a story about a lord’s expectant wife and given directions to an inn, and, well.” He shrugged. “You know the rest.” Then it was his turn to eye her up, to peer through her mystery. “What about you? What brings you here?”

“About the same. No high class family or magic powers, but Gilded Vale’s supposed to be a place of opportunity. So here I am.” It was then she paused, and the gentle smile faded, replaced with a faint frown and the concerned furrow of her brow. Her lips pursed and exposed something conflicted within her, until her eyes fell on him once more, this time sharp and sly. “You wouldn’t know anything about souls, would you?”

The question caught him off-guard. “Uh -- no, I don’t suppose so. It’s not my field of expertise.” In hindsight, perhaps he should have gone into it. “Why?”

She shifted uneasily on her feet, glancing away once or twice before speaking. “I encountered … what I think was a bîaŵac, while traveling by some Engwithan ruins with my caravan. I’m told surviving one is unusual.”

Aloth’s eyebrows shot into his head. “Unusual, yes. Some say it is even impossible. Though, I suppose if you’re standing here, that proves things one way or the other.” He found himself leaning back, repelled by a newfound awe. “It seems you either have a knack for timing or the favor of the gods.”

 _Two things_ , came a voice inside him _, that might serve ye well, if ye can keep ahold of her._

While wrestling with this new idea, he almost missed Kai saying farewell. “Wait,” he said, extending a hand at her back and quickly retracting it when she turned. “Perhaps I could join you.” At her look of uncertainty, he feigned a casual demeanor and adjusted his sleeves, brushing off an invisible fleck of mud. “I’ve had enough of the watered wine and lumpy beds at the inn, and I find it’s better to travel in numbers. I wouldn’t mind a change of scenery, wherever your search for souls takes you.”


	3. The Shell and the Stone

“You’re in luck. I have a volunteer.”

As Bellasege’s expression lightened, Aloth’s darkened. “I don’t know about this,” he said, toying with the tips of his fingers and glancing around the room, at the looming cage in the corner.

Bellasege’s face split in a grin, eyes gleaming with excitement that bordered on the edge of hungry. “Don’t be silly. The process is perfectly harmless. All you must do is stand in that cage.”

“I beg your pardon?” Aloth’s voice didn’t quite crack, but it came close, brows shooting into his head and eyes widening in alarm. 

Bellasege laughed. “I jest! You Aedyrans are so uptight. I do not even know what that thing is used for. It belonged to the last occupant of this office, I think. Now, they upgrade him to a cell.” She paused, glancing up with a crooked grin at the disturbed faces of her guests. “Again, I jest.”

When she approached Aloth, he leaned back, arms held in front of his chest, but she just clasped him by the shoulders and guided him to a small couch in one corner of the room, pressing him down into the seat. His eyes followed her as she moved to the machine on the table opposite the chair, and felt his stomach drop as it pointed in his direction.

“Now, try to relax,” Bellasege continued. “But don’t try too hard. Then you won’t be relaxed at all. Oh!” The machine began to hum and glow faintly as she swept around it and back to the couch, extending three copper rings, one large, two small. “And you must wear these. A little cold, but they will help conduct your essence.” 

The copper rings slipped around his wrists and onto his forehead, metal cool against his skin. His eye twitched as she adjusted and clicked them into place, neither too loose nor too tight. His teeth ground together from the tension in his jaw.

“Now, it is time to examine your soul.” Bellasege resumed her position behind the looming machine. To the others, she made a show of explaining and gesturing to each piece, passing the time as it powered up. Something about adra lenses and a great deal of complex mechanics.

“How exciting!” Kana exclaimed. He leaned forward, chin in one hand, examining the machine with interest. “I’ve never seen this sort of thing performed before. It looks suitably complicated.”

“It is,” Bellasege assured him, chest puffing with pride.

“Does this mean we’ll get to talk to Iselmyr more?” Eder asked, scratching his beard. “I like that lady.”

“Ah!” Bellasege exclaimed, lifting a finger. “But first we must find this cunning interloper. Which requires drawing her out.” To Aloth: “Why don’t you tell me about yourself, while I make some final adjustments?” 

Sagani, ever motherly, gave his arm a firm pat. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we won’t hear a thing.”

Aloth pressed his lips together, resisting the urge to flinch at Sagani’s innocent gesture. “Very well.” Sagani stepped back, and suddenly it was just Aloth on one side of the room, and everyone else on the other, the machine whirring menacingly and each of his companions staring at him. “What-- what would you like to hear?”

“Tell me something personal,” Bellasege instructed. “Something from a time before your Awakening.”

Aloth felt something in him stir, tense and hot, a current run through an exposed wire. “There’s nothing to tell. I was just a normal child, living in the Cythwood.” His eyes flicked back to the group, gaze landing on Kai. She stood at the front, arms crossed over her chest. 

Kai pressed her lips together, feeling oddly uncomfortable, even though she wasn’t the one on the couch. “Maybe talk about your home,” she suggested, skin prickling as all eyes turned on her. “Your family. Where you grew up.”

Aloth’s frown deepened, but he took a steady breath and composed himself. The tension left his face and shoulders, but Kai saw it move to his hands, balled into tight fists atop his knees. “It was comfortable,” he began, words slow and careful. “Modest. Quiet, when my mother was away, though that was most of the time.”

As he spoke, Kai felt something shift in the air, a change in pressure before a storm. The prickling exposure of a raw soul. She extended a hand that was not a hand, an arc of power that seemed to emanate from the center of her chest. She felt around for _Aloth,_ for the feeling, not the person, and then her vision... split.

The sanitarium basement, with its mold and rot and cold cobbled floor, drifted away, floating to the back of her mind like a distant memory. Instead she was standing on a pale and sandy beach, with swaying palms and tropical flowers at her back, and an endless blue ocean before her. She had somehow returned to the Deadfire Archipelago, a place she hadn't been since she was a girl. Since she was too young to be afraid.

The rising tide deposited something at her feet. She picked it up and rolled it between her fingers. It was cool, and familiar, worn smooth by ocean salt, colored a pretty shade of peach and mottled with dark blue patterns.

But the shell was not alone. The waves brought a second object to her, and this one was a misshapen, pock-marked stone, rough and coarse and covered in dark green algae scum. It was heavier than the shell, somehow both satisfying and strenuous to lift. Kai held the shell and the stone in each hand, felt their existence reverberate against her own, three neighboring ripples in a pool of water.

She focused on the shell.

Aloth closed his eyes, and his voice took on an unfamiliar cadence. “Quiet enough to hear the clink of glass on wood. I knew to be careful, then. Father is good about hiding the bottles. Mother, when she is home, is good at pretending not to notice them.”

Bellasege’s voice came as if from a great distance, drowned out by the roar of the waves. “This is good. I’m starting to see… something. Continue, please. Tell me about the time you Awakened.”

The shell grew bigger and heavier, almost too big for her to get her palm around, but she held fast.

“I am in my fifth year of training,” Aloth droned, with the voice that was and yet was not his. “Mother is home. I can let my guard down a little when she is around -- he is usually only angry with her. But he has heard that I am having trouble at school. My projectiles are inconsistent, my shields unstable. He is furious that I have failed, and Mother’s presence reminds him that he has failed, too.”

A shiver ran through him. The shell went cold in her hand, and Kai brushed a thumb over it, warming it, caressing it.

“The first blow takes me by surprise. One moment I am sweeping the kitchen, the next I am sprawled on the ground, staring stupidly at flecks of my blood on the tile. His boots, glistening with fresh polish, thud across the floor. He kicks me in the stomach, and I curl up to shield my vitals. But it’s pointless. Protecting one thing only leaves the other exposed.

“Still huddled on the ground, I retreat as fast as I can. I retreat until the vision of the kitchen and my own trembling knees is nothing but a pinprick of light against a field of black.”

The shell grew colder still, quaking in her open palm, shrinking from her touch.

Bellasege swore in a language Kai didn’t know. “He’s hypnotized himself with this old memory!” The machine clicked and hummed as she furiously twisted the knobs and switches. “One of you must bring him out of it. Quickly! I almost have it.”

The basement returned to the forefront of Kai's mind, and as it came back into view, she could still feel the presence of the shell and stone, their weights in her hands, and the sea spray on her cheeks. Her vision cleared, mostly, and she found Eder staring at her. “What?”

“Whatever you were doin’, I think you gotta turn it around,” he said, glancing over at the man on the couch. Aloth’s lips moved without speaking, his eyes moving rapidly beneath their lids. 

Kai hesitated. Her essence pulled towards him -- or perhaps, he pulled towards her, wanting to close the distance between them. Aloth twitched again, face screwed up with some invisible pain, and the shell and stone wanted to return to the sea.

But she resisted. Boots padding along the carpeted floor, Kai went and knelt beside him, hesitating before slipping her fingers through his. “Aloth,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “You’re safe. It’s just a memory.”

The roar of the ocean filled her ears as Kai returned to the beach. She walked, slowly, into the sea, carrying the stone and the shell with her. The water rose to her hips, her chest, her neck, and the pressure squeezed her stomach and lungs. The tide pulled at her, struggling to drag her into the sea and off the shore.

The stone suddenly weighed twice as much as it did before, and the shell half as much, the abrupt change startling her into almost dropping both.

Aloth’s eyes snapped open. “He’s nere safe when I hap’ upon him,” he said, lips forming someone else’s words.

“That’s it!” Bellasege said, gleeful. “I’m seeing a shift in his essence. Something… spreading, and congealing.” She glanced over the top of her scope at Kai. “Keep talking. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working.”

Kai licked dry lips, and steadied her grip on the stone, staring it down like one would a strange animal. “What brought you here?”

Aloth stared at nothing, answering Kai’s query without addressing her. “Kraking bones and voices high in ire. That warm molasses feeling that crips down your gut when crisis is nigh.” 

Bellasege made more cackles of triumph. “Two distinct essences… fascinating.” The machine zoomed forward, its lenses and scopes extending closer to Aloth’s form. “Get the two of them talking -- I need to find where they connect.”

“Iselmyr,” Kai said, though if she spoke the words or felt them, she couldn’t tell. “Tell Aloth why you Awakened.”

“Fye, he’s the one needed me!” Iselmyr exclaimed, Aloth’s face screwing up in disgust. “Hiding in his own bonebag like a turtle in its shell.”

Then his face turned to fury, crisp affectation returning. “I never turned it over to you.”

The stone and shell ebbed and flowed, seeming to take power from one another, weighting as the other lightened, shrinking as the other grew. Bellasege offered encouragement and instruction from far away, the ocean waves drowning out her voice as the water sloshed around Kai’s ears. “Why give her power, Aloth?” she asked. Her words were swallowed by seawater as the water sloshed over her head, but the question rung in her ears, clear as a bell. “Why let her take the space you leave behind?”

“I’ve given her nothing.” The shell grit his teeth. “She usurps me in my own body.”

“Aye, and I lend him a pair too,” the stone bellowed. “Ye should ask whit I did that auld man of his. How the last time he laid a hand on us, I brek it in three places.”

“That wasn’t your decision,” the shell snapped. “It was never your decision.”

“Nye was Awakening. But now I’m stuck with ye, and damned if I let your ninnying drag us both through the scupper.”

Their connection grew thin and tenuous, worn down by the labor of balancing the two forces. Kai’s hands shook, the water rose, above her chin, her nose, the top of her head, until she was submerged, adrift in a black-blue world. The beach, the sun, the shore, vanished behind her.

Kai released the shell and stone, and they floated up, weightless in the water.

Kai snapped back into her own skin, recoiling like she’d been slapped. She gasped a sudden intake of breath, and felt distinctly disconcerted to find herself bone dry and nowhere near a beach. Bellasege’s words faded in gradually as the ringing in her ears ceased. “--their argument, and her essence seemed to localize most clearly in the lower portion of the subject’s left ribcage. That’s right around the spleen, which, of course, means that she is triggered by black bile. No doubt the subject’s characteristic melancholy is to blame.”

Aloth blinked, and when he spoke, Kai felt the echo of two souls speaking as one. “That’s utter horseshit.”

Kana rumbled something dubious but diplomatic, but Bellasege’s feathers remained ruffled, staring down the bridge of her nose at the pair of them on the couch. Kai composed herself and offered a weak, wry smirk. “Well, if you’re right, then removing his spleen should cure him.”

Aloth turned on her, eyes wide with alarm. She winked at him.

But it was over. Bellasege scribbled shorthand into her notes and helped Aloth detach the copper circlets from his limbs. When she approached, Kai suddenly realized she was still holding Aloth’s hand, slim fingers curled through her own. She stood, relinquishing her grip and tucking her hand into her pocket, and stepped aside as Bellasege helped Aloth to his feet. “Well, this is all well and good for your studies,” Aloth grumbled, rubbing his wrists, “but what does this mean for me?”

“Well…” Bellasege frowned at her papers, tapping a quill against her lips and dripping ink down the front of her tunic. Her eyes drifted upwards to meet Kai’s, brow arched in a question.

Kai shifted on her feet, looking away as she gave a loose shrug. “Well, I learned that managing two souls is a lot harder than one,” she said. Aloth snorted in her peripheral vision. Then, more thoughtfully: “It sounds like she appears whenever he’s in danger or upset. If he doesn’t want her around, then he needs to avoid danger.”

“Sounds easy enough, given our line of work,” Eder quipped.

“Regardless,” Aloth said, not quite looking at any of them, “thank you, for your help. All of you.”

Thus signaled the end of the meeting. Bellasege offered thanks and flattery, boasting about how the new data could influence so much further research, and Aloth muttered Hylspeak curses under his breath. Eder and Sagani went to wait in the hallway, while Kana stopped to chitchat with Bellasege, asking about some college or some instructor Kai didn’t recognize. Not that she knew much about colleges to begin with.

She did, however, have an eye for detail, so she didn’t miss the careful sidestepping of Aloth creeping towards Bellasege’s notes, eyeing up the papers covered in the transcripts of their meeting. In one deft gesture, he slipped them out from between the stack of books, rolling them into a scroll and placing it within his cloak.

Or, he was going to, but their eyes met and he froze. He jerked one finger to his lips, and spoke in a whisper, masked by an abrupt laugh from Kana. “Please. I don’t want my personal information published like this. Especially not after her-- _nonsense_ ,” he said, lip curled in distaste, but behind the derision was a flicker of fear. 

Kai glanced between Bellasege and Aloth’s imploring expression. She swallowed, and gave a tight nod. “Be quick,” she said, in a matching whisper. “And quiet.”

The papers slid inside Aloth’s cloak without a sound. “Nye to worry,” he whispered, eyes glittering with another soul’s mischief. “We’ll see to this on our oan.” 

They slipped out, then, as Kana said his farewells and they climbed up the steps of the sanitarium, away from the cold stone and into the wooden, carpeted warm of the main hall. Kai lingered at the back, watching Aloth’s form as he followed the others. He pulled his hood low over his face and billowed out his robes, hiding within them, one hand fondling the scepter at his side. 

She caught snippets of bitten off curses and heated arguing, and as his energy waned and closed again, she felt the stone and the shell warping against each other, sea green and soft peach locked in a perpetual battle for dominance.

She held the door for him as they left. He didn’t look at her, but she felt his soul brush against her own, before she could feel him no longer.


	4. Midnight Past

A blessedly peaceful sleep was broken by the rough shake of unfamiliar hands. Aloth started, body moving before his brain caught up, and as he squinted into the darkness, moonlight caught the curve of Eder’s eyes.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he whispered. He was wearing his nightclothes, a loose white undershirt over plain trousers, but a belt hung loosely from his waist, sword attached at one hip. “Kai’s gone.”

Aloth blinked. “What?” he said, voice slurring from sleep, and sat up on his elbows.

“Went to take a piss and thought I’d check in on her. Bad dreams and all that. But her bed ain’t been slept in.” He stared at Aloth expectantly.

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” Aloth asked, bewildered and irritated in equal measure. Concern prickled at the edges of his senses.

“Dunno. Figured you’d be able to track her down, assumin’ all is as it should be. Two of you go wanderin’ off into the night often enough, I thought you would know where she went.”

Aloth broke Eder’s gaze to frown, looking up at the window. The half moon gleamed at him through the glass. Decisively, Aloth threw up the covers, and sought out his slippers.

Aloth’s cloak shifted and fluttered in the wind as he stepped out onto the cold stone of the western barbican, shuffling towards the silhouetted figure sitting with her back to him. Her head did not turn, not even as he stopped a few feet away from her, unsure if he should approach.

“Tracked me down, huh?”

“Eder woke me. He was worried about you.”

The cricketsong continued, through it grew quiet in the bushes below their voices. “Mm.”

Aloth leaned forward, like he wanted to sit beside her, but did not yet dare. “What are you doing out here?”

She didn’t reply immediately. She sat with her elbows on her knees, arms crossed, her hands on her shoulders and her chin on the center of her crossed forearms. Her face shone in the moonlight, reducing the color of her features to their base saturation: her skin ashen and gray, her eyes all aglow. “Thinking.”

As Aloth toyed with the tips of his fingers, he saw Kai’s undead cat slink around her hips and rub against her back, sliding along her side and bumping against her elbow until Kai relinquished one hand to scratch her about the ears. Aloth’s face twisted in distaste. “You don’t mind the smell?”

“The breeze blows it away.” She scratched, scratched again, then folded her arm back over her knees. “Besides. Her existence isn’t her fault.” A beat. “How did you find me?”

Aloth huffed air through his nose, pulling his robe closer around him. “I didn’t,” he admitted. “I merely knew it had to be somewhere outside. I’ve been wandering the grounds for the last half hour.” Kai’s shoulders shook with what had to be a silent chuckle. Aloth took that as a minor success. “May I sit with you?”

“I’m surprised you’d ask.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.” A tacit agreement, yes, but still, he waited.

After a moment, Kai stirred. “Yes.”

He joined her on the stones. They sat in a gap between the battlements, where the bridge and forest stretched out before them, the main road faintly illuminated by clutches of fireflies and gleaming moths. The moon shone high and beautiful above them, at its midnight brightest, and slowly creeping towards the western horizon beyond them. “A pand for your thoughts?” 

She hunched further into her shoulders, lowering her chin so only her eyes peeked out over the tops of her arms. “I don’t think I can stay here.”

Aloth started. He sucked on his lower lip to withhold his gut reaction, instead choosing his words carefully. “Why do you say?”

Kai went very still, and Aloth saw the light catch the goosebumps prickling across her skin. She rubbed her forearms absently. “When I was a child,” she began, “my parents died. Very suddenly.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Aloth said, on automatic impulse.

She glanced at him -- the first eye contact she’d made yet -- but continued. “I wasn’t there when it happened. To this day I still don’t know all the details. A robbery gone wrong, some kind of accident, a murder-suicide over a secret lover… I don’t know. I heard a lot of rumors, but never any truth. They said I was too young to know.

“I was shipped between family members. Aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins. They tried, I suppose, for that first year. To look after me. But I had a habit of running off, or getting into trouble. Doing and saying things I shouldn’t.” A pause. Then, wistfully, reverently: “I was so young.” 

Aloth watched her, face unmoving. 

“But I was too much trouble, I guess. They decided that I needed to go to some relative I’d never met, off the Archipelago and in Rauatai. A long ways away. And I… The day before I was supposed to leave, I ran away. At first, it wasn’t so hard. I was still fresh enough that families took pity on me, innkeepers let me have the kitchen scraps after a busy night. It’s only when you get so much dirt on you that they stop having pity. That you’re just another urchin crawling around like beetles in the shitpile.

“But I never went back there.” She turned and looked at him, really looked at him, face painted with a seriousness she almost never wore. “All this time, and I’ve never gone back. I’ve done a lot of different things. Some gangs. Highway robbery. Honest merc work -- or, as honest as that gets. Odd jobs, security, a little bit of petty thievery. Traveled for miles in every direction. But I’ve never gone back.”

She looked at the moon. “That first year, with my relatives -- that was the longest I’ve stayed anywhere since my parents died. I’ve never spent more than a few months anyplace else. You do your business, find work, you move on.”

Her fists clenched and unclenched, brow furrowed with pain, with frustration. She stared at the moonlit creases of her palms as if they were not her own. “I came to the Dyrwood, to the Gilded Vale, not expecting any aspect of that to change. More work, more people.” Her lips turned up in a weak, wry grin. “You know, I was considered small, back home. Among the Aumaua, I am petite. Skinny.” She flexed one arm, watched the muscles ripple and shift, fingers casting spindly shadows across the stone. “Now I am surrounded by kith who think I am a giant. It’s a welcome change.”

“And I’m not about to argue,” Aloth said, with an amused huff. Their different in height was not so magnificent, truly -- he had met many kith taller than him, but in his mind’s eye he always felt Kai had this ability to _loom_ , to cast a shadow that he could not, making her out like some great and untouchable statue.

Her grin pulled wider, before the moment caught up with her and her levity evaporated. “My point, Aloth,” she said, with some firmness, “is that I’m not, supposed, to…” Her lips twitched with the words she sought but deemed unsuitable. “... be here,” she finished.

The statement hung in the air like an added shadow in the night, like someone’s summoned shade floating pointedly between them. Aloth’s lips parted, but she interrupted him, blurting out the rest of her thoughts before he could cast judgement. “I’m just not supposed to be here this long. I can’t -- this isn’t what I’m _like_ , Aloth. To own a keep and rub it in the face of some uppity git is all well and good, but now, I -- I have to _be_ someone. To own something. To stay.”

Her eyes stared into his own, shining like liquid and begging him to understand. “I can’t be something I’m not,” she whispered. “I’m not a lady, or a hero. I’m not supposed to be here.”

Aloth’s jaw set. “I see.” Then it was his turn to peer into the moonlight, keenly aware of her eyes on his cheek, still begging for validation. He licked his lips as his thoughts formed, and he lost himself for a moment in the rhythm of the cricketsong.

He spoke. “When _I_ was a child, I started out attending a normal school. They taught some minor magical courses -- mostly for the benefit of the upper classes, of which I technically was -- and I excelled at them. Before even adolescence I had made a name for myself doing cheap tricks and illusions, sparkling lights and sourceless winds. Lighting a candle and all that.” His lips curved in a small smile. “I was the best in my class.

“Which meant there came a point where I have to move up. My mother, with her connections, secured me a position at a somewhat prestigious boarding school, usually favored by the lesser nobility. I was deemed talented enough for entry. But it meant that I would have to leave home, at least for stretches at a time, and be somewhere I wasn’t the best. I was the king of a country school, but there, I would be but one of many geniuses, and the standards that won me early glory would be irreversibly raised.

“And I would fail.

“I did fail, many times. Such was the source of my father’s wrath on numerous occasions. I was unable to truly blend in with the students, given my inability to relax, my… lingering fear, that the slightest show of weakness would out me. Iselmyr would show herself and I would be made an outcast, disgracing my family, my father, and losing everything I wanted so desperately.”

He shook his head. “The day I was sent away, a carriage came for me. Resplendent, painted with the crest of the thayn my mother served. And I was to ride it alone, with a few boxes and bags of my things for company.” 

His voice grew soft. “I remember, very distinctly, staring out the window, watching my mother and father fade away into the distance, and wanting -- so badly -- to somehow stay home. That, after all I had worked for, this opportunity… wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth the fear of being lesser, fear of the unknown, fear of chaos and newness and uncertainty.”

Finally, he looked at her again. “But, it got me here. And, I think, here is a pretty good place to be.” He mirrored her, elbows resting on his knees, legs drawn out before him. “I think I am happy, or as close to it as I am currently able. I have tentative purpose. Iselmyr continues to be manageable.”

“And you have a staff,” Kai pointed out. Aloth shifted and the blue, crystal bud of his scepter caught the moonlight, sending a cascade of prismatic reflection across the stones.

“I do,” he agreed. His eyes softened. “It was a gift from a friend I admire a great deal, one I would not have met without making the choices we have.”

Kai’s eyes rested on his scepter, on the dazzling blue lights now shining all around them, before flicking up to his own. “What should I do?”

His eyebrows rose thoughtfully as he pondered. “I do not have an answer for you. You could always turn the keep over to Lord Gathbin, if you are truly so conflicted.” He glanced aside just in time to see her expression darken stubbornly. He resisted the urge to smile. “Instead, you could adopt the customs and practices of traditional Dyrwood nobility. Or, some mix of the two, suiting your own preferences.”

“How am I to do that?” Kai asked, with a barely disguised scoff. “I don’t see much of a spectrum in being a rich landowner and not being one.”

“There is,” Aloth said, from experience. “You don’t have to become a classical Dyrwoodan maiden to be respectable. You don’t even have to be very respectable at all to still command respect and wield power. There are certain behaviors and skills one must learn to get by, but you are connected to few families or factions, outside of Gathbin, and your resources are your own, funded by our adventures. Your boon is your independence, and there are many ways you could use that to your advantage.”

As he spoke, Kai’s face remained still and thoughtful, a frown fixed on her lips. “Will you teach me?” she asked, when he had finished.

Aloth started. “Teach you what?”

She flapped a frustrated hand. “Everything. That. How to function. What I need to know, to do and not do. You think it is easy, but I am not--” Melancholy threatened to overtake her once more, pulling her shoulders down into a slump. “--I am not you.”

“I would never ask you to be.” He stood and brushed himself off, the fresh dust of cement clinging to his robe. “I don’t know if I know anything particularly valuable, but I imagine that if we begin basic etiquette lessons, the rest will fill itself in.” He looked down at her and extended a hand, and a faint smile. “None of which can be learned on a sleepless night.”

Kai offered him a lop-sided smile in return and took his hand, fingers clasped around each other’s palms, and she took the help she did not need to get to her feet. “It won’t be easy,” she warned. “I am stubborn, and contrary, and will avoid my lessons.”

“I look forward to the challenge, Lady Kai.” His smile twitched wider.

She looked confused, and surprised, but the title washed over her ego and made her grin. Their hands had still not unclasped, instead curled loosely around one another, precarious and clinging. Her thumb ran over the tops of his knuckles. Her lips parted, tongue pressed to the back of her teeth with words poised on her tongue. Then she swallowed. “Good night, Aloth.”

His lungs felt tight, like he couldn’t fully draw breath. “Good night, Kai.”

Her hand slid from his, and she turned away, heading back into the keep.


	5. Where the Journey Began

A little girl with blue skin and quick steps darted over the slick rocks that dotted the river, water spray dappling her skin. The scent of tropical flowers carried downwind and sweetened the air, and the breeze shook the branches of the bending palms above her. Colorful bugs buzzed from leaves laden with stagnant rainwater, and the girl ran past them before they could sting.

The girl’s thin sandals left half-prints in the sandy soil, where only the ball of her foot hit the ground before leaving it again. When the criss-crossing vines above her dipped low enough to grab, she would leap up and take hold, swinging forward and jumping off for one brief, heart-stopping moment of freefall. Then she hit the ground, giggled, and ran to the next one. 

The world passed by in a bright, gleeful blur, until at last the path widened and the wilds thinned. She found herself on the crest of a hill, looking out over a small village, unruly hair whipping around her cheeks and her loose clothes flapping in the wind. The houses were all wood beams and woven fronds, painted in varying faded shades of pinks and blues and golds, the colors of the shells that washed up on their beaches. 

People milled about, carrying barrels, buckets, and boxes of things from far away. A covered shelter in the middle of town housed merchants hocking their wares, fresh fish and foreign spices and soft woven things. Several small figures darted through the sandy streets, slipping around and between the busy adults. “Hey!” the girl hollered.

The figures paused and looked in her direction. Several waved and shouted wordless cries of welcome. The little girl grinned, and ran towards them. 

They skidded to a halt on the edge of town, as both parties had run to meet the other. A boy grinned with a mouthful of barely-pointed teeth. “Where have you been, Kai?” he asked.

“I can’t say,” Kai replied, with a dramatic flip of her salt-dried hair over her shoulder. “It’s very important business. Going very dangerous places. That kind of thing.”

“You didn’t go over the river, did you?” asked a girl, with wide, eager eyes, silver irises standing out against her dark sclera. 

“Did you see it?” A second boy, his golden skin parted by fish-like white stripes, spoke up. He wrung his hands somewhere between worry and excitement. “Did you see the adra?”

The other children hurriedly hushed the second boy, then looked back to Kai like the faithful to a prophet. She lifted her chin and puffed out her chest, yet kept her face stoic and resolute, a wizened traveler back from grand adventures. “Aye,” she said, and wished she had stolen her uncle’s pipe, as it would have made an excellent prop. “I saw it.”

A rumble went through her loyal crowd. A swarm of questions followed, uttered in low voices as to not draw the attention of nearby nosy adults. “What was it like? Did it shine? Did you see someone’s soul? Were there any Vailians nearby? Did you touch it? What did you see? What did you do?”

Kai raised her hands, palms out, soothing her followers. “We can’t talk about it here. Even the walls have ears.” The children nodded wisely, as that was a very wise idiom, even if they were outside and not within walls. “Come on,” Kai said, and beckoned them away.

Then, a shout pierced the ambient noise of the plaza. “Kai!” 

The group froze. A few buildings over, a blue-skinned woman with her hands on her hips stared at them intently. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you!”

The children exchanged looks. “Scatter!” 

“No! Do not-” But it was too late. The children fled in all different directions, leaving the woman to cry out in frustration. Kai ran up a stack of boxes and vaulted onto the roof, sprinting along the wood beams for fear of stomping through the woven fronds. She jumped along the buildings crowded close together, then swung down and hung from the edge of the roof by her fingertips, allowing her to kick off the wall and hit the ground running.

“Kai!” the woman’s voice came loud and angry behind her, and the girl kept running. She spun around and through the bodies that blocked her way, heading for the narrow palm-lined path to the beach. She leapt into the flora and off the beaten path, jumping from fallen log to muddy puddle so her footprints were less obvious, and winced as damp leaves slapped against her face. 

Then she broke through to the other side, where golden sands met the broad blue expanse of the ocean, distant ships sailing with the wind to neighboring islands. The water-warped boards of the dock creaked as Kai ran over them, and a few dockworkers cursed at her as she passed. “Oraiti!” she cried. “Oraiti!” 

At the far end of the dock, where the biggest ship made port, a golden-skinned man with clay-red hair and a scarred back stopped and looked over. His lips spread in a wide grin. “Kai!” He dropped his cargo on the boards and sank to one knee, meeting the girl in a broad hug. She ran eagerly into his arms, her small form dwarfed by his much larger one. “ _Ekera_ , you have grown so much since I last laid eyes on you!” He ruffled her hair affectionately, and she beamed. “And your teeth - are they starting to come in?”

Kai pulled back her upper lip to better expose her front teeth. Where the others were only mild points, her front teeth were broad and sharp, like a shark’s fangs. “I got these last year, Oraiti. You have been gone too long.” His lips parted, but she shushed him. “Listen, you must help me. I’ve been gone all day looking at the adra across the river, and if Aunt Kohia finds out, she’ll never let me go into the wilds again.”

Oraiti’s weathered face furrowed into a concerned frown. “Kai, child, you know you cannot go there, especially not alone. The naga may-”

“There were no naga. Or Vailians. _Ekera,_ I want to tell you all about it, but you must help me!”

On cue, Aunt Kohia’s voice pierced the air once more. “Kai!”

As Oraiti rose, Kai quickly ducked behind his leg, peering out from his side as the man’s hand rested on the top of her head, his shoulders stiffening as the woman marched towards them. 

“How dare you run away from me. Kai, I have been worried sick all morning, and then you run off, as if I don’t know you’re still talking to that Roparu boy. And as for you-” Her eyes raised to Oraiti and narrowed. “I thought I told you to stay off this shore.”

“My ship came to resupply,” he replied, mildly. “I do not control where the winds take us.”

“It looks like you’re doing more unloading than stocking up,” Kohia said, scowling at the sailors that passed her, armed with bulging sacks and dripping barrels.

“I did not know it was forbidden to barter rather than pay in coin.” 

“It is when the goods are ill-gotten.” She glanced with pursed lips at Kai, still peering out at his hip, and crossed her arms. “I need not tell you again that I do not want my niece being influenced by a-” She looked each way, voice lowering in conspiracy. “A _pirate_.”

“A privateer, Kohia.”

“What difference does that make?”

“Some of what we do is legal, rather than none of it.” Oraiti smiled. “I am not aligned with the Príncipi at the moment. You need not worry. Perhaps I wish to set a better example for our mutual relative, hm?”

Kohia’s lips curled back in disdain. “You share no blood with this family. Do not pretend such things.”

“Ah, but I have shared plenty of coin, have I not?”

Kohia had no response. At last, Oraiti nudged Kai forward, back into full view. Kai wilted under her aunt’s baleful stare, lower lip stuck out in a pout as her gaze lowered to the boards. Oraiti leaned down to murmur to her, still loud enough for Kohia to hear. “Go on now, Kai. You may visit me later, but only once you have behaved for your family.” Then, in more of a whisper: “Good things do not come easily.”

With a resigned sigh, Kai crossed over and stood beside her aunt, who took her arm in an unforgiving grip. “Goodbye, Oraiti,” Kai called, stumbling after Kohia as she was dragged back home.

Oraiti smiled, waved, and climbed back aboard his ship. Kai stared at the boat as she walked, unable to tear her eyes from the looming masts and flapping sails, the barnacles hidden and revealed with each sway of the ocean’s surface, the motley crew of sailors that walked its deck.

Then they turned onto the beach, and Kai could see it no longer.

Kohia’s rage was easily raised and easily assuaged. Kai said her sorries and cleaned her room, and life returned to normal, even if four walls were much less interesting than island wilds and sunlit seas. 

The paint on Kai’s home received enough regular coats to never fade, and often the local merchants delivered their purchases, instead of requiring a trip to the market to haggle. The few times Kai’s friends had come to visit, their mouths had hung agape and their eyes lingered on the fine dishes and fancy foods. Her uncle’s old sword hung above the hearth, marked with a military insignia, and her aunt got letters that took hours to answer. Presumably they were important enough to afford such comforts. 

“I don’t know anything about it,” Kai admitted to her friends, with a blank shrug. “It’s their stuff, not mine. My parents didn’t have anything like that.”

Dinner came and went, a muted affair punctuated with the sound of utensils against ceramic. Her aunt droned on about people with names Kai didn’t recognize, and her uncle grumbled about “upstart Huana” not respecting authority. Kai shoveled food into her mouth.

At last, she had eaten enough to be excused. She said her goodnights and headed upstairs, stomping against each step and aggressively shuffling across the floor. She opened her bedroom door, closed it, and went still.

A few minutes later, the sound of voices rose again, and Kai crept back down the stairs, to the corner of the hall and the living area, where she could hear their conversation.

“Oraiti’s back in town.”

“Tch.” Her uncle snorted. “Didn’t that man learn the first time?”

“He thinks that since he and Irawaru had an arrangement, he has some kind of bond to the family.”

 _Irawaru_. Her father’s name. Kai leaned closer, pressing her cheek to the wall, her heart skipping a beat.

“Did you convince him otherwise?”

Kohia grumbled, and a knife scraped aggressively against a bowl. “I didn’t know what to say. The man’s not wrong, but that still gives him no right to interfere in our lives. In her life.” Silence fell. “Are things all in order for the move?”

Kai frowned in unexpected confusion.

“Yes. They’ll be here to pick her up tomorrow.”

Another silence reigned as Kai’s eyes widened. “Do you think we’re doing the right thing?” Her aunt sounded softer than usual, a hint of doubt blooming in her usually indomitable demeanor. “It could make things worse, you know. She’s already dealt with so much.”

“I fail to see another option, Kohia.” Her uncle’s voice was soothing, but firm. “We’re her fourth caretakers in the last year, and if she carries on like this, there may be a fifth. The Huana here are already upset with her associating with the Roparu boy. I would care less about their barbaric caste system if it didn’t reflect badly on our own reputations. And if she insists on running off every day, skipping half her lessons and ignoring the rest, then we have done the best we can do.”

“Yes, but- surely there is a better way? I would hate for her to blame us. To hate us.”

“If she prefers a pirate’s company to our own, there may be little we can do.”

The air was thick and dejected. “Rauatai will be good for her,” Kohia said at last, attempting to summon confidence out of her ambivalence. “She can learn to connect with her history. Her people. It was a foolish idea to try and raise a child here, anyway. Her parents should have known better.”

Kai’s blood burned with sudden anger, her small hands curling into fists. “Who knows?” her uncle said. “If she does well, perhaps Cousin Mere will be more than a guardian, but a mentor. She might do well in the navy. It would allow her to return here, after all, and she’s always had that interest in sailing. It might be a worthwhile career, and far preferable than, say, pirating.” His voice turned garbled, the sound of cheeks puffed with unchewed food. “I would think you’d understand it, Kohia. It’s all about redirecting motivation.”

“I suppose you’re right. She needs to learn her own culture, is all. To respect where she comes from. I imagine everything else will fall into place.” A moment passed. “A toast?”

“A toast.” Glasses were filled. “To Rauatai.”

“To Rauatai,” her aunt agreed, and they drank.

Kai’s eyes burned with unshed tears, and she padded along the boards as silent as she could, before opening the window of her aunt’s study and climbing out the back. Saltwater streamed down her cheeks as she ran, over the sandy ground and into the wilds, the world enveloped by shadow and forcing her to navigate by touch and memory alone. She ran until she didn’t know where she was, then her knees hit the soil, and she wept.

The dirt on her palms mingled with her teardrops, staining her blue cheeks. The night soothed her with its warm embrace, the moon as bright as the sun with none of its harshness, and she cried until she had no tears left. She felt wrinkled and wrung out, like fresh laundry pinched to a line, and she pulled her hair back from her face, retying her ponytail with trembling hands. At last, she stood, and rubbed the gooseflesh from her skin.

She could go back, she reasoned. Make an argument for why she should stay. Appeal to their sentimentality, tell them they were her new family. Climb into her bed and hope that change would never come.

Instead, she went back to the river.

The rocks were harder to navigate at night than she’d anticipated, their slick patches harder to see by moonlight, and the river water was black as pitch. Her head ached from crying, and she couldn’t trust her instincts to catch her if she failed.

She hopped onto the first rock crossing the river, then the second, as they were fairly close together. She took a moment to get a bit of a leaping start on the third one, and she skinned her knees as she fell onto it, making her stifle a cry. Her blood looked black in the darkness, blending in with the rest of the shadows. But she pressed on. On the fourth, she stumbled, her foot knocking against the side of the rock and causing her to nearly fall in. 

She was close, now. Not too far. She leapt for the next rock, and in mid-air she glanced up at the bushes. A glowing pair of golden eyes stared back. She gasped, and fell, and the water took her.

She kicked up towards what she thought was the surface, gasping for breath, only to choke on the water splashed around by her flailing limbs. She caught ahold of something and gripped for dear life, fighting against the river current, unable to see and following only the feel of her anchor and the need to breathe. She crawled, burning with exhaustion and adrenaline from pushing against the water, and at last floundered her way to the riverbank, the cold mud a welcome relief.

She tumbled onto the shore and coughed up a little water, blowing it out of her nose and pushing her wet hair back from her face. In the moonlight she realized her anchor was a protruding root of some kind, the edges of its wooden texture shining silver. She stood, and looked around for the golden eyes she had seen, and found nothing but darkness. Somehow that was worse.

Still. It was go forward, or go back across the river.

Kai continued through the wilds, following the path she had taken just that morning. She went slowly, not knowing this land as she did the lands around her village, but unwilling to stop for fear the golden eyes would return. The soil turned to mud beneath her feet, clinging to her wet sandals, and her clothes were soaked through with cold water.

Then, she saw the glow.

Relief flushed through her, and her cautious steps turned into an eager run. Pushing aside branches and slapping leaves away, she found her way into the clearing surrounding the adra stone, illuminated with a brilliant green glow. She stopped at the edge of the clearing, and took in the sight.

Above the ground must only be the peak of it, as the stone was just about her height, and she knew adra veins went on for miles. It seemed to glow stronger as she got closer, though perhaps that was just her eyes adjusting from the darkness. She stood just before it, awash in its green light, and listened. In the complete silence of the wild night, she could hear it humming. Softly, yes, but there, like a heartbeat, something _aching_ just below its surface. Something about it eased the cold from her bones.

She trembled, and reached out, hand pausing just an inch before its surface before finally placing her palm against it. It was hard stone, yet somehow soft to the touch, as though someone had gone and smoothed all its edges. It was warm, but not hot, not like a fire, not enough to be a heat source. Her hand traveled its length, felt the uneven edges of the rock, the faint point of the crystal’s tip.

For a moment, she understood why the Vailians would want to travel every inch of the Deadfire, to pollute the land with hard stone and copper machines, to mine this stone from the soil and use it for a thousand different things. Adra was _life_ , made tangible, and that power would not - could not - go unabused.

“Foolish shuffler.” A forked tongue lingered on the _s_ sounds, drew them out with a snake’s rattle. Kai whipped around, the adra’s warmth abandoning her. 

A naga with golden eyes and glimmering scales slithered out from between the trees, rising to its full height and staring down at her. Moonlight caught the edge of the blade it carried in one hand, and even as it stilled, it remained in motion, its body faintly waving and curling as though it could not bear to go unmoving. “You come again. Was once not enough for you?”

Kai had no response. Her mouth had gone dry, her knees weak. The naga shook its head and slithered left, and Kai crept right, her feet as heavy as bricks from fear. “We were supposed to have an arrangement. Keep away from the adra, and you will not invoke our wrath. What makes you so willing to disregard this truce?”

Kai swallowed. “I didn’t know,” she croaked. “I’m just a kid.”

“Did they not teach you these things? Did they not warn you away from the river, and tell you to keep to the paths?”

“I- I thought they were making it up.”

“And you would bet your life on their deceit?”

Kai sniffled, and heat began to rise once more behind her eyes, a gush of tears returning. “I don’t know.”

The naga hissed, blade swirling in the dark. “Return to your village, young shuffler. Do as you are bade, and do not tempt fate again.”

Kai wiped at her eyes. Her heart pounded as she tried to conquer her emotions, gripping them as successfully as fingers through sand. She could not put her pain to words, but she soon arrived at a decision. “No,” she said, though her voice cracked and her nose was thick with snot. She dared to meet to naga’s golden eyes, even as it made her blood run cold with fear. “I can’t go back.”

The naga stared at her, seeming to process this. “Then run,” it said. “Do not return to your village, but do not return to this place, either. Go where your two-legs may carry you and be grateful for mercy, for it is a rare thing.” When Kai did not immediately respond, its voice lowered and its eyes narrowed. “ _Go._ ”

Kai did. She sucked in a breath and fled, the opposite direction of the river, the opposite direction of the adra, to a part of the wilds she did not know, where she tumbled over rocks and the vines slapped her face and where nature was no longer her friend but a threat. She ran until her clothes dried and her eyes cleared, until she was numb to the pain of the cuts and bruises, until she stopped feeling golden eyes at her back.

She stood at the crest of a hill and looked out over the rest of her island, saw it sprawl wild and untamed before her. And, beyond it, the sea, dark and beautiful with distant ships on the horizon. The sky was pink and gold, and the ocean gleamed red and burning, set aflame by the rising sun. The golden light shone on Kai’s face and made her feel raw and exposed, the scars of last night unprotected by shadows. 

Her face took on the kind of weariness she had imitated for her friends the day before. But there was no mirth in her eyes, no imaginative game to play. Only a resolve unfamiliar to a girl’s heart.


	6. Memories, Old

Aloth had been to many dinner parties, in his youth.

Mostly when he was in adolescence - old enough to speak his own mind and get a little taste of the adult world, but young enough to still be under its control. As he progressed in his magical studies, accruing more power and prestige, his mother’s position as steward allowed him and his father entrance into the world of nobility. Such parties were held in marvelous, towering mansions, with endless feasts perpetuated by tireless servants, where the air was thick with the sound of swishing satin and the scent of heady, expensive perfumes. Aloth remembered the sight of a hundred slender hands with wine glasses held aloft, toasting to a lord Aloth never met.

His hair was shorter, then, his features more childish and undefined. He wore finery with sleeves draped long to hide the lingering bruises on his arms and wrists, bruises borne of a father’s tight grip or unkind classmates. He wandered, adrift, through a crowd of people better than him, waiting to be spoken to, waiting to be introduced. And he was, sometimes - they all said he was a very nice, very polite boy, but always a bit too solemn, a bit too uptight. 

The girls said that, too. There were always girls. Lords’ daughters, ladies’ nieces, always pushed towards him under a heavy, expectant gaze. The color of their skin ranged from porcelain to milky tea, their hair from straight to tightly curled, their modest gowns any color of the rainbow. But they were always stiff, as he was, keenly aware of the eyes of half a dozen chaperones examining them for any sight of compatibility, or impropriety. Their features were always delicate, with high cheekbones and smooth skin, their hands soft and untouched by labor. When he was encouraged to - forced to - dance with them, they moved like a gentle breeze, ethereal and untouchable.

He never got to speak to them for more than a few minutes at a time, so they all blended together in his mind, a vague concept of “beautiful girl” stitched together of different parts like a rogue animancer’s experiments. In direct, almost comedic contrast, no one ever chaperoned the young mens’ room. 

And there was always one, at every party. Where the lords would shuffle off to one room to smoke or drink or talk amongst themselves, their sons would do the same, smoking pipes too big for their hands and saying words too big for their mouths, imitating what they would one day become. Some were crude. Others were handsome. Many were both. And there were no adults watching.

It was at many of these dinner parties that Aloth would go for a walk with some lord’s cousin’s father’s uncle’s nephew, and brief, clumsy touches would be exchanged behind the cover of a window curtain. Sometimes he would see the same boy twice, at different parties months apart, and a look of mutual interest would pass between them before they wandered off together.

Good times.

Such memories drifted through his mind as he wandered the halls of Caed Nua, preparing for its first real noble gathering, where the plain stone was decorated with rich shades of red and gold, tapestries hung along the walls, and carpets rolled out across the floor. Tarnished silver was retrieved and polished, guest bedrooms made, and banquets prepared.

It was strange. Aloth had been to many of these events, but never seen one prepared, never been behind the scenes. He certainly never thought he’d host one.

The hum of conversation and the heat of crowded bodies was far from him when he laced up his finery. A tailor in Defiance Bay had created outfits for each of them, with varying degrees of complexity. Eder was allowed to continue wearing most of his armor, masquerading as the captain of the guard. A guard they did not possess, for the record, unless one counted the handful of mercenaries Kai paid to patrol the battlements and fend off the Leaden Key from time to time. Kana’s outfit, while simple, had cost the most, just from the amount of fabric required to cover his broad frame. Sagani and Durance declined to attend the event altogether.

Aloth wore a fine purple tunic with more laces than was really practical, but the tailor said it made him look distinguished. Aloth remained unsure if this were true, but he stuffed his cravat in all the same, and allowed himself to enjoy the pleasure of fine leather shoes. He had worn such shoes when he first set out for himself, but quickly discovered that they were made more for comfort than long-term use, and it was Kai who had to buy him a decent pair of hiking boots.

As he frowned at his reflection and redid his cravat for the third time, a meek knock rapped against the door. “Steward?” 

Aloth turned. A magical flick of his fingers undid the lock, and the servant peeked their head around the door. “Lady Kai is ready to present,” they informed him. “She requested the presence of her companions.”

Aloth sighed and stuffed his cravat in for the final time, lips pursed at the sight of it. “I’m coming.”

And so he found himself at the foot of the stairs, fingers stroking the pommel of the scepter that hung at his hip. It soothed him, oddly enough. Perhaps a side effect of the soul binding that he had been so hesitant to commit to, fearing that his own _anomalies_ would somehow damage the ancient weapon. It had done no such thing, at least so far. 

“Havin’ fun yet?” Eder quipped. 

“One does not have fun at these sorts of parties,” Aloth replied, lips curved in an amused smirk. “You endure them, drink heavily, and hope someone important remembers you after.”

Eder nodded. “I’m startin’ to think Sagani and Durance had the right idea.” Then a door opened, he turned to look, and his expression went slack.

Aloth looked. 

Kai stood at the top of the stairs, tall and proud in robes made from several shades of blue and green, sewn in one great sash across her torso, with loose sleeves made from some translucent fabric. She wore no skirt, instead trousers that were form-fitting and flattering, and sturdy boots lavished with ornate patterns stamped into the leather. Her hair had not changed, but Aloth detected a hint of cosmetics -- a touch of ash around the eyes, in the curve of her jaw, a light cream on the skin to keep from sweating during the dances. Aquamarine and algae green fabric contrasted with her natural ocean blue, and the design itself toed the line between something foreign and exotic, the traditional male attire of Dyrwoodan nobility, and powerful, immutable femininity.

Her skin was not particularly soft, even with the cream on it. Her scars were too visible, her arms and cheeks marked with mostly healed nicks and scratches. Her hair was not long and silken, but rough and hewn, cut with a knife and washed, soapless, in river streams. Her nose was not small and pointed, but arched and crooked, permanently marred with past breaks. Her waist was not particularly narrow - feminine, yes, but wide and visibly muscled. Her cheekbones were not high, and her cheeks were soft and round, the kind that would sag with age. Her whole body moved with a kind of self-assured athleticism. She did not walk on clouds under a pile of silken skirts, she marched with purpose and power, two gold-gilded stiletto blades strapped at her hips, politely concealed by the overlap of her tunic and sash. 

And yet, as she walked down the stairs, grinning like a fool with wide-eyed nervousness hidden behind her humor, Aloth’s heart swelled. With pride - for her, and for the both of them, for the lessons they’d conducted together, and the lengths they had come. For Caed Nua, and all it was about to be.

And, perhaps, because she was beautiful.

“How do I look?” Kai asked, with an exaggerated pose before the three of them.

Aloth’s lips parted. “You look beautiful!” Kana exclaimed, matching her wide grin and stepping forward to clasp her by the hands, escorting her down the last few steps. He gave her a beaming final look from head to toe, before pressing his hands to her shoulders. “You will be the star of the evening.” 

Kai laughed, returning the hug he provided. “You do look pretty fine, boss lady,” Eder remarked with a smile. “Betcha it’s really gonna throw them for a loop.”

“Psychological warfare,” Kai quipped. “They won’t know what to do with me. It’s more effective than any Cipher.” Then, at last, she turned to Aloth, and he saw some of the mirth fade from her face. “Aloth? Is everything alright?”

He realized he’d been frowning, and banished that expression. Eder met his eyes for one half-second, and Aloth watched him press a hand to Kana’s back and subtly guide him into the main hall. “We’ll be waiting for you,” Eder said, with a look more knowing than Aloth appreciated. As the door opened, a brief gust of music and human voices hit their ears. Then it shut, and all was quiet again.

Aloth’s eyes flicked back to Kai, her brow furrowed worriedly. He allowed himself a small smile to assuage her concern. “You look very nice, Lady Kai.”

The title tickled her ego, as it always did, and she sheepishly raised one hand to the back of her head. “It’s not too much? It feels like too much.”

“It’s perfect,” he assured her. His breath hitched with something he wasn’t going to say. “Are you ready?”

She glanced nervously at the door. “As I’ll ever be, I think.” She offered her arm. “Care to walk with me, wizard?”

“I would prefer nothing else.”

She shot him one last smile before the door opened, a smile that was all his own, and the first dinner party of Caed Nua began in earnest. 

This party was more boring than Aloth remembered them being. But then, in years past, he had been suffocating under the weight of other people’s expectations, searching for the baleful eye of his father just to make sure he could breathe deeply, forcing smiles and small talk with all the skill a teenager possessed, which was not very much.

But at Caed Nua, he did not know anyone. Nor did they know him. They recognized the scepter he bore at his hip, and the power and status contained therein, but for once they were the one doing the careful diplomatic dance, asking pointed questions blunted by flattery, seeking to further their own ends by convincing him it was in his own best interests. It was oddly exhilarating, Aloth thought, to be the one in power for a change.

But he did not neglect his duties. Where Kai walked, he followed as her shadow, always a few paces behind, drifting through the crowd like a river around stones. He caught glimpses of Eder doing the same, scanning the crowd for any threats. They had heard of no reason to be suspicious, but then, Kai was an up and coming figure with at least one powerful enemy. 

Lord Gathbin himself was attending the party, moving between conversations like a skulking predator sizing up his next victim. Of course, his intimidating presence was somewhat nullified by the oversized pins and baubles he wore atop his finery, and the bright-dyed cape that fluttered at his heels. The stern furrow to his brow and the stiff, pursed scowl, coupled with his gaudy decor, made him look more like a spoiled prince than a man to be reckoned with.

Of course, Aloth reasoned, as the light caught on Gathbin’s rapier, appearances could be deceiving.

Kai, to her credit, did her best to play the part. She smiled, nodded, ate her soup with the right spoon. Aloth couldn’t resist a small smile as he saw the effort it took her, staring intensely at her table setting as she made sure to do everything in the order he had instructed.

It struck him, then, watching her delicately tuck her napkin across her lap, chair pulled up to the table’s edge, that perhaps it never really mattered. Kai had been, as he expected, a witty conversationalist, diplomatic when she had to be, and always honest and kind. What would it have mattered if she held her butter knife like a blade, or scraped the bottom of the bowl, drank her wine too quickly, or stained her sari? 

But then, perhaps his etiquette lessons had merely given her the confidence she needed to walk among these people, people she believed to be so different from her. As the nobles swayed and spun in their dances, and Gathbin glared at her from across the room, and Kai tried to figure out how to eat a turkey leg without looking uncouth, Aloth’s smile widened. Titles and estates be damned, Kai would outshine them all.

“What’s got you so dreamy, wizard?”

Aloth jerked and turned, then moved his gaze several feet down, and found Sagani smiling at his side. Itumaak was nowhere to be found. “Sagani? I thought you weren’t attending.”

“Ah, I’m not.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, observing the goings-on. “Not interested in talking to any of these people, anyway. I don’t think we’d have much to talk about. Still, I wanted to come and see the festivities for myself.” She nodded approvingly, eyes sweeping over the tapestries, the chandeliers, the tables piled high with food. “Not bad.”

“I should hope so. The whole thing’s costing us a fortune.” Aloth winced as he recalled the red-inked treasury ledgers.

“You think Kai cares?”

“A little, I would hope. A keep can’t be run on good will alone.”

Sagani picked at her teeth. “I dunno. A little investment seems to go a long way. That thousand copper she gave the locals sure seemed to quiet them down, and we’ll need all the help we can get to get this place back up and running.”

That much was true, at least. Kai can managed to win over the resident farmers and tradesmen, though considering that their last master had gone insane in the basement of his own keep, and that monsters had walked these very grounds not so long ago, they must have been eager for new management. “And to keep Gathbin out of the way.”

“Is the fucker here? I’ve got a few stern words for him.”

“He’s-” Aloth looked back at the seat he’d been monitoring, and found it empty. He scanned the room, expression darkening as he saw no sight of their unpleasant guest. Aloth looked at Kai’s seat, just to be safe. Empty, too.

Then, Eder broke through the crowd and nearly ran into them both. “Kai’s gone,” he breathed, with a nod at Sagani. “Off with Gathbin. I caught a glimpse of them, but I don’t know which room they went into. We’ve gotta find her.” He fondled the hilt of his sword. “I don’t trust that guy as far as I can throw him. And, thinking about it, I bet I can throw him pretty far.”

“Armor on or not?” Sagani quipped, though her face bore no levity, fingers twitching for the hatchet sheathed at her hip.

As Eder opened his mouth to answer the question, Aloth interjected. “We can settle it later. For now, we must act quickly.”

They split. As the crowd swallowed them, Sagani going towards the gardens and Eder patrolling the upper floor, Aloth began to sweat beneath his stifling cravat. He tore it from his collar, stuffing it into his pocket, and muttered apologies as he pushed others aside in his search. For Kai's sake, for his sake, for _Gathbin's_ sake, he hoped his friend and lady was still in one piece.


	7. And Memories, New

Aloth found a few side chambers with people having separate conversations, a small parlor with the teenage children of several noble families, and one room that sounded like a lover’s tryst, which he dared not enter. But, on the last door, he entered into a room of silence, stifled by the thick padding of curtains and rugs, a fireplace burning low in the hearth on the far wall.

Kai and Gathbin stood before it, their backs to him, locked in some kind of low, intense conversation. Aloth slipped into the room and shut the door, careful not to make the knob click as it turned. He crept further into the room, behind curtains and shelves, where the firelight ended and the shadows enveloped him. The hearth snapped and spat cinders, and Aloth poked one eye out from behind the cover of his velvet window curtain to see Gathbin lean closer, one half of his face lit up with golden firelight, the other doused with eerie shadows.

“Think what you will of me personally, but you cannot deny that my credentials outweigh yours a thousand times over. My family has been resident to the area for decades, centuries --  _ countless  _ generations. I have been raised to fill this role. You may play host well enough, but what will you do when you are faced with hard decisions? When you need to defend your land? When the duc calls on you for aid?”

The silhouette of Kai’s back did not move. “If I hadn’t taken the keep myself, I wouldn’t disagree with you. But it’s been my money going into it. My money, my time, the days spent investigating the curse here. You can’t claim ownership over something you abandoned.”

“Abandoned? I  _ allowed  _ Maerwald to stay here,” Gathbin said stiffly. “How was I to know that he had gone mad? It’s not as though he kept the keep in a fit state even when he was… around.”

“Alive.” 

Gathbin’s lip curled, but he persisted. “You took possession of the keep from a man who did not own it. That is no fault of mine.”

“You rejected the offer laid out by the Erl,” Kai retorted. The flexing muscles of her arm, pulled taut by her curled fist, caught the light. “Pay me for my work and I’ll leave.”

Aloth’s breath caught.

Gathbin paused, but arrogance washed over his features, made him draw himself up and look down his nose at her -- an admirable feat, given that Kai was an inch or two taller. “I will not disgrace the coffers of my house by paying for what is already mine.”

Kai’s shoulders stiffened. Her fist trembled with restrained emotion. “Why come here, then?” she demanded at last. “Why do this to me?”

Gathbin looked aside and bared his teeth in a broad grimace before composing himself. “I am not doing anything to you,” he said, coolly. “As stated. I am offering you a deal. A  _ bargain _ . One that will benefit both of us, I assure you.”

“I still fail to see what I get out of giving you an entire keep.”

“You would prefer to trap yourself in the rituals of the nobility, than travel with your friends as a free agent?”

A silence fell, punctuated by the fire’s crackling.

Gathbin continued. “I heard that you moved here by a caravan meant for Gilded Vale. You do not know this place or its people. You may be well-received, now, but you are a stranger in a strange land, and the people will come to resent being ruled by a foreigner. You do not know our stories, our customs, and such things cannot be learned from all the books in the keep.

“The Steward may handle your day to day affairs, but in time -- as you prove yourself, as Caed Nua grows stronger -- there will be others, come to test your mettle. People less personable than myself,” he added slyly. “In time you will find yourself bound to a throne and ledger books, managing the affairs of ill-tempered peasants seeking retribution for problems of their own making. There will come others seeking to turn your fortunes into their own. There may even be marriage proposals.”

Kai drew back, and Gathbin looked smug. “Yes, my dear. There will be much more you have to contend with. Your pride keeps you from just handing it over, I know, but you gain nothing through stubbornness. Money, perhaps, and power, but both of those things come with a heavy toll. Surely, now, you see you have only one option.”

The air thickened with a pregnant silence. “If all those things are true,” Kai asked, voice heavy with suspicion, “then why do  _ you  _ want it?”

Gathbin’s face split in a thinly veiled leer of greed. “It is my birthright, of course. Is that not enough?” He chuckled when she did not reply. “I shall not deny that wealth and power hold more allure for me than perhaps for you. It helps that I have been raised to wield such things, and that this land is my home much more than it is yours. Returning the keep to my possession is merely… putting things as they should be.”

“Perhaps I shall just give Caed Nua to someone else.”

Gathbin’s eye twitched, but his leering smile remained. “You underestimate the complexity of such a thing. You cannot transfer ownership to someone else, can’t just  _ give  _ someone the right to say they won the keep by might. Even if you won the claim, and I was cast aside, transferring ownership is no easy feat. Any alternative choice you make will contain mountains of paperwork and months spent away from your precious quests and untamed wilds.”

“But,” he said, “give it to me, and the next morning, you could be gone. You’d never have to think about this place again.”

“Maybe I like this place.” Kai’s voice was small, and weak, lacking conviction. Gathbin seized upon it like a hunter on wounded prey.

“It is a fine place. Beautiful, even, and with the potential to become something great. But.” Face plastered with false concern and empathy, he placed one gloved hand on Kai’s shoulder. She leaned away, but did not shrug him off. “It is no place for wayward adventurers. Caed Nua is not a pleasant diversion, it is a life sentence, and the sooner you rid yourself of it, the better off we all will be.”

His hand slid from her shoulder. Kai remained motionless. With an  _ ahem _ , Gathbin adjusted the neck of his cape and stroked his beard. “This meeting has taken up enough of my time, and I have said what I have come to say. I look forward to your response.”

With that, he departed, walking so close to Aloth’s curtain that the elf could have reached out and touched him. Aloth did not dare to breathe until the door shut and Gathbin’s footsteps faded away. Just as he wondered if he should leave, too, or if Kai would go first, her voice pierced the silence. “You can come out now.”

He froze, unearned guilt flushing through him, before inching out from behind the curtain. Kai drank the last from a cup he didn’t know she’d been holding, and turned to face him, her expression unreadably solemn. “You should feel lucky Gathbin’s too self-absorbed to hear anything but his own voice. There’s a reason you’re a wizard and not a thief.”

Her humor failed to calm Aloth’s nerves. “You’re not going to do it, are you, Kai?” He found himself wringing his hands. “You can’t possibly think of giving Caed Nua to that-- that  _ man _ ,” he said, the word sounding like a slur. “It’s rightfully yours. You’ve worked so hard to get here, and we’ve-- we’ve all supported you. You can’t give that up.”

She stared at him. Then, like a beach vanishing beneath the tide, her strange solemnity vanished beneath a too-easy smile. “It’s not worth thinking about, I promise. Let’s just go enjoy the rest of the party.” She set her cup on an empty table and jerked her chin towards the door. “Besides, Eder can’t handle being out there on his own. He might use the wrong napkin or something.”

She didn’t look at him, and Aloth’s stomach twisted.

The second half of the party was even more boring than the first. Gathbin left shortly after his meeting with Kai, and the guests began saying their goodbyes, either heading outside to their carriages, or upstairs to their rooms. Servants began cleaning up the bone-piled plates and untasted wine, sweeping fallen baubles off the floor.

Aloth didn’t see Kai’s departure, but a servant told him that she had retired to her chambers, and that she had asked not to be disturbed. Aloth very much itched with the desire to disturb her, but let it lie, and instead made his way to the library.

Most of the books were Maerwald’s collection, one of the few things that had been preserved over the course of the man’s madness, and as such the books were often as delicate as they were fascinating, with onion-skin paper and a wide variety of topics. Aloth pulled his cravat undone, pushed his hair behind his ears, and pulled half a dozen books from the shelves, their pages as thick as his fingers were long. 

He settled himself into a corner desk and gathered a selection of candles, as well as some blank paper and inkwells, and began to read. His only indication of the passing of time was the gradual melting of the candle wax. It seemed he had just lit the flame when he blinked and wax drops covered the top of his desk, candles turned warped and leaning. He blinked, and his eyes suddenly felt heavy and warm. He pinched the bridge of his nose and swayed in his seat.

“Why aren’t you in bed, wizard?”

He started, blinking his eyes into focus, and saw Kai walking towards him, carrying a flickering chamberstick that brought more light to the dying glow of his desk. Her party attire had been traded out for a sleeveless tunic and loose trousers, worn leather shoes shuffling over the floorboards. Aloth gave a tired smile and leaned back in his chair, wincing at the stretch of his stuff muscles. “Researching Dyrwoodan laws surrounding the transference of land and titles.”

As he tried to remember where he’d left off, Kai pulled over a chair and sat down beside his desk, elbow resting on the edge of it. “Now, why would you be doing that?”

“To help you get rid of Gathbin,” he said, as if it were the plainest thing in the world. He didn’t even look up at her, still frowning at a conflicting passage in the text.

“I don’t see why you need to lose sleep over it. Are wizards incapable of being stubbornly loyal in the morning?”

Aloth tried to think of a witty retort, but his sleepless brain found none, so he just huffed and flipped through another few pages. “This book seems to indicate that ownership is more of a matter of residence and defense, not mere legal status, but a later volume in the series leans more towards documents and deeds. Dyrwoodan law appears to be the result of many small revisions over the course of generations, making it  _ quite hard  _ to-”

“Aloth.” It sounded like she’d been saying his name several times. He shook his head and looked up, and found her closer than he thought she was, her face contorted in an expression he couldn’t quite read. Sadness? Affection? Worry? Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and she looked almost as tired as he felt. “I don’t want you to do this. I don’t  _ need  _ you to do it.”

He blinked. “You don’t understand. I want to do it.”

Her concern edged into frustration, or desperation, or somewhere between the two. “Why? What do you gain from poring over old books in the middle of the night? Can’t we just deal with this tomorrow?”

Aloth flinched, taken aback by the venom of her response. “I thought- I thought I would be helping you.”

Kai softened. “You are. But I don’t  _ need _ your help. I can figure this out on my own. You’re doing too much for me.”

Aloth blinked. He looked back to his books, to the dozens of paragraphs scrawled in miniscule handwriting, surely concealing the secrets that would grant Kai this keep. “I suppose I didn’t think of it that way,” he admitted in a soft voice, eyes flicking back to hers. “But I would rather not see you give up because someone convinced you that you didn’t deserve what you earned. You deserve Caed Nua, and everything in it, and I will do everything in my power to see that done.”

She stared at him. 

Then, in a motion too fast for him to stop, as fast as he had seen her kill stronger men than him, her hand slid around his cheek and her lips pressed to his own. It took a second for him to realize it was a kiss, and another second to enjoy it, but just as it occurred to him to kiss back, she retracted, hand falling from his face. His cheek felt colder in the absence of her warm palm.

“Oh,” he managed. 

Kai swallowed, jaw set. “Mhm.”

“I mean, that was- nice. Good.” Iselmyr, silent until now, suddenly exploded in laughter, her mirth echoing in his ears and flustering him more than he already was. “I mean, it’s- I haven’t had a  _ lot  _ of, ehm, experience, with - that sort of thing, I mean I have, I’m not - unfamiliar with the concept - but in the experience I  _ have  _ had, that was very nice, yes. Different, than, ehm, kissing, ah, men, which - I do have more experience with, but - not that I don’t like women, of course, that’s fine, really, both are fine, I just-”

“You just don’t like me.” Kai’s voice was flat, her expression blank. 

“No!” Aloth jerked forward, eyes going wide. “No! No, I don’t - I  _ do _ , I do. I, uhm. I do. Like you. Very much. A lot, in fact. That’s not - that’s not in question at all, I assure you. Quite the, ehm, opposite.” His cheeks burned.

Iselmyr howled.  _ Good job thaer, lad. Really dun me proud. _

This assuaged Kai somewhat, but she still seemed quiet and guarded. At last, she spoke. “Well, good, then. Good.” With a firm nod, she slapped her hands to her knees and stood. Aloth’s eyes followed her, fixated on her. “That’s, uh. Very good to know. Very good indeed.” She nodded again, and gave him a thin, pleasant smile, as if he’d told her to expect good weather, or that the inn carried her favorite food. “I’ll, uh. Go to bed now.”

She left her chamberstick on the table and retreated into the shadows at the other end of the library. Aloth watched her go, silent lips parted, Kai still wearing that thin smile as she padded over to the door. “Good night,” she said, far too cheerfully, and left.

Aloth stared at the door, dumbfounded, before finally, slowly, lowering his face into his hands, a low groan escaping him.

A silence fell. Then, to the empty room: “Shut _ up _ , Iselmyr.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, this is the point where their story would become a kind of will-they won't-they face their feelings situation, one that ends on a bittersweet parting before they reunite in the Deadfire. But I never wrote that far. Let's just pretend they kiss and make up in the morning!


End file.
